Remorse
by Kaorots
Summary: During his stay in Konoha for Jiraiya’s work, Naruto can’t seem to get to talk to Kakashi, who shows off his abilities to sneak away and disappear. Is there something going on ? Iruka will clear things up, mark his words! Kakairu friendship ?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : Umino Iruka, Uzumaki Naruto, Jiraiya, Teuchi and Ayame not belong to me, but to Masashi Kishimoto, who wrote the manga Naruto.  
Title: Remorse

Genre: Tells a story... XD Humor ? Fluff ? Light drama ? Friendship Kakairu (as in, it's building :p)  
Characters: Iruka, Naruto, Jiraiya, Kakashi, Teuchi, Ayame, a bar customer, people in general...  
Resume: "Middle afternoon. Too late for lunch, too early to dine. Yet, some customers dawdled at the ramen bar Ichiraku. A mild heat, a slight breeze, Naruto's babbling at his side, it was more than enough for Iruka's day to end perfectly, in this pleasant atmosphere, this strange company, made of strangers and closer relations."  
Status: WIP, 1/4

Follows my one shots _Suds_ and _Bar_, though you should understand _Remorse _without having read them.

Comment: Iluvshikamaru, from the kakairu livejournal community, beta-read this, and for such deserves to be worshiped among the saints of the beta-readers cult. I say !

* * *

Remorse

Chapter 1

* * *

Middle afternoon.

Too late for lunch, too early to dine. Yet, some customers dawdled at the ramen bar Ichiraku.

A young teenager was chatting with Teuchi, the owner of the place, trying to use her blossoming and still clumsy charms to learn a ramen recipe. There were a lot of laughs from them, the old man chuckling at her eyelashes fluttering, understanding her need to tease, but kindly refusing to give her what she wanted. Next to the exit, a man of mature years was savoring his tea, a peaceful expression on his face, and mild sunbeams on his back. Ayame, the barmaid, was looking at him with expectant eyes, pressing her tray against her chest with nervous hands.

Two ninjas were snacking at the bar, a young blonde whose wide motions of arms and dynamic rocking of legs made the stool sway, and an older brunet with a huge smile and amused frown.

A mild heat, a slight breeze, Naruto's babbling at his side, it was more than enough for Iruka's day to end perfectly, in this pleasant atmosphere, this strange company, made of strangers and closer relations.

"And then, Ero-sennin hit me on the head. Do you believe it? It's not my fault he hadn't fed me! He said because of me he had lost an hour of work!"

Iruka frowned a little more, this time in a slight annoyance.

"What do you mean, 'lost an hour of work'? Naruto, I thought you knew ninja's work needs concentration…" He started lecturing.

Naruto choked on his ramen, and, after a few cough, burst out laughing.

"No, I meant his perverted novels!"

Iruka let out a small 'Oh' of understanding, too exasperated to be angry, quickly followed by a deep sigh. He should have known, after all. Sometimes he forgot Naruto's actual teacher was one of the greatest porn writers known; the power of the subconscious…

"…said. What a great ninja he is, being so easily distracted. I, the future Hokage, would've never, ever been stupid enough to write the word 'ramen' ten times in a sex scene!"

Iruka almost spit his ice tea on the bar.

"What a mood killer - don't you think, Iruka sensei?" The genin asked teasingly, all cunning smiles and innocent look, two expressions that only he, in Iruka's circle, could mix in a credible way.

Iruka looked at him with a pale face, and murderous intent in his eyes. Naruto tried not to laugh. He really did. He put all his ninja training into trying to keep a calm face. But the chuunin's shocked expression, the nervous twitch in the corner of his mouth, teeth clenched, and especially the fact the genin never really had had 'self control' training, got the better of his resolution.

He found himself hiding his face in his arms, his forehead on the bar in front on him, with shaking shoulders and tears in the eyes.

Seemingly annoyed, but amused nonetheless - though he hid it - Iruka shoved him off the stool.

"I missed you too, you stupid brat." He sniffed, trying to mime indifference by looking down at his half empty glass.

On the floor, Naruto beamed.

"Aw, you sweetie!" He joked, crossing his legs to make himself more comfortable on the wooden floor.

Iruka answered his teasing with a feral grin, and threw a chopstick at the kid's head. Naruto kicked his elder's stool, and from then they bickered some little, making a fuss at the bar. Teuchi laughed at their antics, and the persistent girl at his side pouted, before she pulled at his sleeve.

"Teuchi-saaaaan!" She whined, childish in her mature body.

The old man looked back at her, sighed and patted her head with a soothing smile.

She started to sulk.

"But I need this recipe..." She insisted, taping her lips with a finger.

Ayame chuckled, faithfully standing at the customer's side. The latter gave her a questioning look over his glasses, causing a blush to appear on her face. She quickly hid it behind her tray, failing to see the man smiling at her, in what she usually thought was a mysterious way because of the age gap between them. He was strangely appealing to her, in his thirty and a half, male, smart, unreachable, and, above everything, 'worship-able'.

Sticking out his tongue, Naruto picked his stool up. He sat on it with a suspicious look at his former teacher, who only ruffled his hair absently, too used to this teasing with the blond to stay falsely mad anymore.

The calm wind turned, bringing them a pleasant smell of flowers, mixed with fruits, fish and meat, all from the market two streets away from the ramen bar. Some smoke entered the place briefly, but didn't stay long, and the stranger Ayame admired so much only shook his hand mechanically to disperse what could have remained in front of his face.

Suddenly shy, Naruto gave Iruka a hesitant smile.

"Hey, I'm happy you missed me." He admitted, trying to use his usual macho voice, but ending somewhat gentle and sweet, things Naruto never was – or, at least, things he denied he could be.

Iruka resisted the urge to shove the boy so as to hide his tender feelings again. Instead, he just slapped the back of the blonde's head.

"I won't buy you a third bowl of ramen only because you're playing cute, dumbass."

He scratched the top of his nose, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Naruto pouted. Iruka took a sip of his ice tea.

At his side, the boy ate his ramen slowly, apparently savoring his second and supposed-to-be last bowl, but fighting his too pleased smile. Iruka couldn't help but laugh inwardly at the twitch of the boy's lips, and the way his face looked away to hide his inner fight against his amusement.

An itinerant salesman walked down the street, pulling a small carriage by himself, for he was too poor to either possess or sustain neither a donkey, a jenny or, obviously, a horse. At every ten slow and wide steps, precisely, he called for potential clients, describing his merchandise, from sweets to toys, such as bright weathervanes, wooden whirligigs and colorful marionettes. There were very few people in the street, and even fewer children, and thus he had little chances of selling some of his products.

All Ichiraku's customers stopped to listen to him. The mild thirty year old man was the last to stop giving the cries attention, only when they were barely audible, while the teenager had impatiently shook her hand as soon as she had understood what the shouts were for, pulling Teuchi's sleeve once more to try to gain the old man's attention.

Iruka gave a nostalgic sigh when he heard the calling in the street, and resumed his conversation with Naruto.

"Hinata asks for news every time she hands in a report with her team. She has given me so much ointment for you I'm sorry I had to put half of it in the school's infirmary."

He paused with a chuckle and a muzzy stare, looking in front of him into the nothingness. He absently turned his glass in his hands. Then, he shook his head, and smiled brightly at the boy.

"I don't know why she thinks I know more about your doings with Jiraiya than the others, though."

A new pause.

'Oh, the joys of dramatic effects' Inner Iruka scrapped his hands together, devilish, fire burning in his invisible eyes. Feigning an afterthought, Outer Iruka added.

"Sakura often asks for news, too."

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the shouts of joy he knew were coming after his sentence.

...

Silence.

Okay, maybe that was too much for the kid's heart.

Iruka looked at the boy at his side. Well, judging from the huge smile on the latter's face, all this suspense did have the desired result. Only, the brat was growing up, and starting to be a little less obnoxious – though that didn't mean he was far from exuberant.

Iruka ruffled the boy's hear again, and, taking advantage of Naruto's carelessness – the brat may be a ninja, but he first was a teen in love having just learned the girl of his dreams had been asking about him - sharply stole his bowl.

He quickly ate the remaining ramen, then winked at Naruto.

"You didn't finish your bowl. I'll have to buy you a new one!"

The genin, blinked, gaped, blinked, and beamed once more, throwing himself at his former teacher in a breathtaking hug.

'You're a softie.' Inner Iruka sighed, while Outer Iruka, wide eyed, was starting to hug the kid back, and sat on a dangerously swaying stool. But before he could even think of pouring chakra to the floor to counterbalance it, Naruto was back to his own seat, bouncing on it, and calling the bartender with wide gestures.

"Old man, one more please."

Teuchi rolled his eyes and, still followed by the teenager, he filled the blonde's bowl to the brim with his wooden ladle.

"You're a softie, Iruka." The old man smiled at the chuunin.

Inner Iruka couldn't help but do an 'Iruka Dance of Victory' in the chuunin's mind.

Sometimes, Iruka hated him so much...

Naruto ignored his surroundings. He didn't see the other customer exit, how he paid for his tea with a friendly smile to both the bartender and the waitress, nor the way Ayame's eyes followed him until the corner of the street, nor did he hear the teenager's cries for attention, punctuated by chuckles. He only looked at his ramen bowl with a passionate expression.

Iruka shook his head and gulped down what remained of his ice tea. He smiled against the cold glass, his teeth playing with its edge. He was glad the idiot was back, even if it was only for two weeks, the time for Jiraiya to take care of some 'business' – what could that be, Iruka wondered, before shivering and assuring himself he didn't want to know.

But, yeah, he had missed the obnoxious brat.

* * *

"Ero-senin!"

At the smacking sound of the door, Jiraiya looked away from his literary work with a look of annoyance. The boy had already ruined seven full pages of mind blowing sex, perfectly well written, by drowning him under demands of ramen. He could only hope being spoiled by the chuunin teacher he spoke so highly of – kids always tended to over-value their closer relations - would soothe the kyuubi bearer's ardors.

"Ero-sennin, ero-sennin! I ate four bowls of ramen! And Iruka-sensei said we could go to Ichiraku again tomorrow! Isn't it great? Don't you find it great?"

...

Or not.

And ignoring Naruto was not a - safe - option.

So the man stood up and went to the counter table near the entry of the room, a plastic glass in his hand. He took the thermos bottle on it and poured himself some warm coffee, enough to, he hoped, be able to bear Naruto's already started babble. The boy looked completely overactive, instead of sleepily digesting the stupid _four_ bowls of ramen.

With a resigned sigh, and a sort of snicker, Jiraiya sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall, his legs crossed under him.

"So, I get your date was all right." He commented after a swallow of the liquid, shaking slowly the glass in an absent gesture, a tic of his.

"Of course it was! I was with _Iruka_-sensei. What could have been wrong, old geezer?" The boy snarled. "He buys me ramen!" He added, like this simple information could resume by itself the 'perfectness' of Umino Iruka.

The blond genin started then to enumerate his former teacher's qualities, in a long list Jiraiya half-listened to, punctuated with incriminations at Jiraiya's teaching ways, his stinginess, his obsessed behavior, his snoring, his annoying 'work', his weakness at beautiful women, his stupid grey hair, his old age, his frogs, his clothes, his life, his looks, his expression, his eyes, his nose, his whole being, and a lot of others things Jiraiya passed off with a shrug.

"Plus, he's not a pervert like you or Kakashi-sensei!"

Jiraiya rolled his eyes with a smirk and Naruto suddenly paused in his monologue with what seemed to be a thoughtful look. Then he shrugged and started undressing, bitching at his too hot sweater, and stumbling on his pants. Under Jiraiya's exasperated gaze, he walked cursing to the bathroom and tried to slam the door, only to miss his foot by few millimeters and yell in anger as the ground sheet impeded it from closing. He insulted the whole world and growled some insults until the sound of a shower turned on muffled his mumbling.

'The brat's nervous.' Jiraiya thought, surprised by the sudden change in attitude and sitting back at his desk. Well, the boy would talk to him when he felt ready anyway. When didn't he talk, huh?

The grey-haired man put his now empty plastic glass of coffee on the desk, just behind his notebook. He munched on his pencil and closed his eyes, trying to dive into his personal Icha Icha world, wherein he created the craziest fantasies before he set them down on paper. He quickly replayed the first part of the chapter; inwardly shooing the 'plot' aspects and refraining from drooling at the more... detailed moments.

There she was, Yuki, the beautiful amnesic orphan, wild, always refused to talk, white skin, black hair, pink lips and flushed cheeks, fallen on the floor, panting. And the hero of this Icha volume, Saburo, third son of a five children family whose parents had been murdered, poor milieu, forced by necessity to become a thief, among other things; skin tanned from the sun on the waterfronts, long brown hair, blue eyes that pierced one's soul, loopy but seductive smile; had been paid to steal an inherited medallion from an orphanage, and had ended having to chase the girl, and pin her to stop her from running.

The best part... The precious piece of jewelry was kept under Yuki's clothes, close to her heart, so she would always remember someone, somewhere in the world, had loved her enough to give it to her. But Saburo needed to get it to get his reward and feed his little brothers, so he tied the girl's hands and feet and...

"Ero-sennin!"

...

No.

NO!

"What's wrong with you?!" Jiraiya exclaimed back, so exasperate and annoyed he was close to desperation. It had been getting so good...!

The kid had a way with killing the mood.

Really.

"I think Kakashi-sensei has been avoiding me." The genin whined, coming out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and another one around his shoulders.

Heh, that was new!

"And why, do tell me, would the great sharigan Kakashi, the copy-nin, the legendary man of the thousand jutsus, creator of the Chidori! – want more...?" Silence. "I'll take that as a 'No.'... Why would he be avoiding a mere fourteen year old genin?!"

"I dunno; duh! That's why it's been bothering me. I haven't even been pranking him!"

Jiraiya gave his empty glass a suspiciously moist look and got up to fill it again while Naruto dressed. He wanted porn!

Well, the kid sure had strange ideas. Kakashi, avoiding him? The jounin liked – to torture – Naruto. And Sakura. And some other boy he shouldn't even be thinking of since he was dead to the eyes of society.

Anyway.

Jiraiya coughed.

"I swear it! While I was looking for Iruka-sensei to ask him for some ramen I saw Kakashi-sensei so I went to talk to him and tell him all the great things I have done and how much stronger I've gotten and..."

The jounin snickered at this and took a sip of his lukewarm drink. Ew! Where had he put the sugar already?

"You tired him with your babbling; he just needed some peace. It's understandable." Jiraiya stated with a shrug, walking around the room, his eyes scanning the environment at the search of something to soften a little the bitterness of the pure coffee.

Naruto glared at him, picking his dirty clothes to cram them in a plastic bag next to his bed. He went silent for some seconds, playing with the bag as if it was a big juggling ball. Then he threw it at Jiraiya's head, frustrate, but the man dodged easily.

"Kakashi-sensei never refuses an offer for free food. He is a natural leech!"

Jiraiya smiled fondly at this, and then frowned at the nowhere-to-be-seen sugar. He lifted his pillow and put it back to its place with an annoyed sigh, and walked to Naruto's bed who only glared at him.

"Don't you dare touch my sheets with your perverted hands." He warned, putting clean pants on. "Anyway, I even said Iruka would be buying us the food. He should have been happy, no? He wouldn't have been the only adult."

He scratched his neck, and watched with a tired look his teacher go berserk on him and start to take his own sheets out in an attempt to find sugar. He rolled his eyes at the man, laughed, if not a little nervously, and sat on his bed.

"Hey, maybe he doesn't like Iruka. Maybe it's because of this he disappeared."

Jiraiya looked up from his unpacked bag, surrounded by thrown clothes and books and papers. Naruto wondered if the man would start twitching soon.

"What do you mean 'disappeared'?" The jounin asked, quickly packing everything back.

"I mean, he freaking jutsu-ed out! You know, with the smoke and the leafs. In his 'cool and hip' way." Naruto exclaimed, getting up to kick his shoes in a nervous gesture.

Jiraiya ignored him. He rubbed mildly his forehead, scratched his bust, narrowed his eyes and absently patted his thigh, seriously thinking whether he should just go to the store in front of the hotel and buy another pack of sugar or drink the bitter beverage as it was. Then, at the same time, he didn't want to be defeated by a sweetener...

"Where could the sugar be? – Look, Naruto, I really don't know. But he doesn't have problems with Iruka, that's for sure; the gossip vine says they've been getting along lately. It surprised people, after the genin nominations thing…"

He tapped his foot.

"Maybe you should talk to him and..." He suggested mechanically, grimacing at the bitter taste remaining in his mouth.

Naruto gave him his best flat look and fell back on his bed, taking his pillow to put it on his face and hide it.

"He has been avoiding me. How do you get a legendary Jounin ex-Anbu to talk to you when he doesn't want to?" He asked in a muffled exclamation.

Jiraiya curtly opened his bedside table's drawer, and cursed when he found it empty – which was normal, he had to admit, since he wouldn't put sugar next to his bed because it could attract insects.

"He only left once Naruto. Maybe he was late to a date. Maybe he had a compromise."

"You realize how dumb you sound, telling me he was hurrying not to be late, don't you, Ô-san?" Naruto chuckled from behind his pillow. When no one answered him, he took it away and looked at his oblivious teacher. He sighed: "Hey, if I tell you where the damn sugar is, will you listen to me seriously?"

This time, the answer didn't last long to come:

"You know where the sugar is?!"

Really, Naruto wished he could tell the others Jiraiya's hopeful expression at the mention of sugar, but no one would believe him if he told them the pervert male macho writer could get crazy when sweet-coffee deprived.

"It's on your desk, duh. You were drinking coffee when I came in the room. Now, listen..."

Jiraiya hummed in answer, prancing to his desk with a content smile. Naruto couldn't help but think of how scary the picture of a childish Jiraiya was.

He shook his head.

"I found it weird that Kakashi-sensei would run away like this, so I tried to talk to him again, to make him eat with us. I thought it would be fun! He's a pervert, he'd have taken his book out while we would have been eating and Iruka-sensei would have passed out from blood loss or beat the pulp out of him... Anyway, the second time he disappeared as soon as I started talking, and the third and fourth ones he jutsu-ed as soon as I even _saw_ him."

Jiraiya gave him his most serious look, nodding gravely and breathing deeply. He looked down at Naruto.

"The coffee has gotten cold!" He stated calmly.

Naruto made an attempt of suicide by suffocating himself with the pillow.

* * *

I love Naruto. Jiraiya's OOC-ness will be (sort of, vaguely) explained in the next chapter. As in, yes, he's OOC, but not as much as you think... (I'm NOT using random excuses XD)

Please... Comment ? I hope Naruto and Iruka's interaction seems true, realistic enough.

Oh, and I hate ffnet page setting system... Just so you know !


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer : Umino Iruka, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Jiraiya, Teuchi and Ayame not belong to me, but to Masashi Kishimoto, who wrote the manga Naruto.  
Title: Remorse

Genre: Tells a story... XD Humor ? Fluff ? Light drama ? Friendship Kakairu (as in, it's building :p)  
Characters: Iruka, Naruto, Jiraiya, Kakashi, Teuchi, Ayame, Hokudo Fujiko, a bar customer, people in general...  
Resume: During his stay in Konoha for Jiraiya's work, Naruto can't seem to get to talk to Kakashi, who shows off his abilities to sneak away and disappear. Is there something going on ?  
Status: WIP, 2/4

Follows my one shots _Suds_ and _Bar_, though you should understand _Remorse _without having read them.

Comment: 1) Iluvshikamaru from livejournal beta-read this, and for such deserves to be worshiped among the saints of the beta-readers cult. I say !  
2) Hokudo Fujiko isn't an original character meant to show the 'greatnessness' of one of the main characters. I tried to make her human, and she has good sides : she cares for her students. Just disagrees with Iruka's teaching methods. I mean, Kakashi and Iruka did have a fight at the genin nominations about it ! (not that I want it to be an Iruka/Fujiko, but I hope I got my point across --'). Just... I'd rather not have a comment saying: "WTF what a bitch !" ' Not that I think people will read this XD

* * *

Remorse

Chapter 2

* * *

The subdued shine of a six-hour sunrise was lightening the room. A slight wind gently shook the white and thin curtains. In the back of the place, the creamy wallpaper had a dark tone of brown, while the window, facing the east, was surrounded by a pale beige halo. The building on the other side of the street, in a complete backlighting, showed a front hidden in the shadows, the street lamps being already off.

Sadly, despite the pleasant and poetic atmosphere of this calm morning, Yuki simply didn't want her medallion or her virginity to be stolen. What a pain! Even Jiraiya couldn't bring her to stop fighting Saburo, as beautiful and good-looking as he could be. The writer didn't seem to find _the _situation, the little detail exciting enough to make them _act_.

He had the frustrating feeling he was losing his touch.

Then, Naruto's snoring at his side couldn't exactly be considered sexy, troubling his erotic writing.

Maybe he should just wake the kid up. At least he would have some company, and forget his lack of Muse for a while, distracted by the genin's pestering at being awaken so early. He could also ask for some sexy no jutsu, to humor him, you know. And then he would find his inspiration!... And then, when he would start writing, his head teeming with ideas, the idiot would start babbling as usual, and spoil his work again with such a non-sense talk.

Jiraiya turned to look softly at the blonde, in a complete contradiction with his violent thoughts, and smiled against his own will. Okay, Naruto was touching when he wasn't talking or acting macho, so what? He was still an annoying brat.

The writer shook his head and stretched his arms, making them snap slightly. He yawned, opening his mouth wide, and started making faces to relax the muscles of his face. Maybe he should leave his work for a while and put the pile of crumpled papers on trash, clean the mess left from his 'sugar crisis', or even tidy his dirty clothes, used as a carpet in front of the bathroom's door so as not to wet the floor after taking a shower – Naruto style.

Jiraiya's face darkened slightly, and a thoughtful expression hazed his eyes. He remembered the day before, when he had tried to cheer Naruto up by making a fool of himself looking for sugar, even if he had to admit he had been annoyed by the lack of sweet in his coffee. The writer had felt happy and satisfied when his idiot of a student had laughed, letting his scowl go and returning to his fox-like grin. Even so, it was his turn to be worried, because he believed Naruto's words, the boy being of the optimistic kind, and thus rarely getting truly upset, or showing it. If he said Kakashi was acting weirder than usual, then he had to admit there had to be a part of truth in his words.

Jiraiya stood up from the desk and walked to the window, shoving a reddish tobacco to his wooden pipe. It was a mixture of three different herbs coming respectively from villages of Kaze, Kaminari, and Mizu no kuni. Sandaime himself had taught him how to mix them properly, and how to smoke them in a pipe made with a tender wood from Tsuchi no Kuni. The smoker, the one breathing in all this spicy and exotic scent, had to be a Konoha citizen, and the smoking symbolized the union between the ninja villages, all in one body, one being. Jiraiya remembered that, after teaching him, the Hokage had looked at him with a sad look, a sort of disappointment and melancholy in his eyes, sagacious eyes that said they knew what had been said was only a chimery, and that war would always come.

The grey-haired man raised gently a curtain with his arm, letting the wispy tissue rest on it, and looked out of the window. The memories of his deceased mentor brought a suspicious moistness to his eyes, but he brushed it off with a thumb, holding his pipe with his teeth, and sniffed. The smell of the tobacco reminded him of the paternal figure his teacher had been, and of the man he had started writing the Icha Icha series for.

The sun was making it's appearance above the building facing his window, with the slowness of a virgin eliciting her charms, cheeks red and body of a pure white that shone in the paleness of a morning sky.

Jiraiya smirked at his thoughts. Okay, so _maybe_ he wasn't really loosing his touch, after all. He just seemed to be lacking incentive.

He exhaled a grey smoke in the cool air and watched it rise to the slightly cloudy sky, morning-time clouds already leaving, heaved by the breeze. A window opened with a curt slam somewhere in the street, the shutter hitting gently the wall again and again before it was chocked up. Hitched next to the bathroom's door on the other side of the room, the clock behind Jiraiya ticked softly, and in the living silence of awakening people it was fairly distinct to his ears.

Naruto shifted in his sleep, mumbling incoherently and hugging his sheet tightly in the morning coolness. Jiraiya walked to his student and laid a thin blanket on him. He ruffled the spiky blond hair.

Maybe he should tell Naruto to share his worried thoughts with this Iruka-sensei guy - listening to Naruto speak of him, you would think the guy had 'perfect' for a nickname – since, after all, the academy teacher seemed to have Naruto's best interests in mind, just like he, Jiraiya, did. Not that Kakashi didn't, but Kakashi had a way of seeing things which he was the only one brilliant enough to understand. Yet, Iruka had been talking to him, and he had to be at least half as crazy as the copy nin to manage such a feat ; the man seemed to have a thing for lost causes anyway, putting up with Naruto and all. If Iruka couldn't make Kakashi speak, the writer would take care of it, anyway, so why not try?

The creaking of a cart and the sound of hoofs slowly hitting the pavement went up, overlaying the spluttering of a lighten brick-kiln with charcoal.

Jiraiya sat at his desk, lulled by the sleepy agitation of stands settling in and chairs and tables being put in front of bars and small street restaurants.

* * *

A corridor.

"Iruka-sensei!"

The man winced at the sharp voice. He slowly turned around to face his fellow teacher who was walking angrily in his direction, violently shaking a paper sheet to catch his attention.

"Fujiko-sensei, what can I do for you?"

She smirked triumphantly at his polite question, and stopped a few centimeters in front of him. She held him the paper.

"Look at this." She commanded, and Iruka felt all his pride boiling in him, revolted. A part of him told him to slap her, but he swallowed his self esteem and silently took what she was handing him, refraining himself from grabbing it violently from her. He stepped back so as to be at ease while looking at the incriminate paper.

It was a drawing. A pencil drawing of a huge oak-tree with a heavy trunk. The husk was very detailed, with knots, chaps and notches; the never-ending roots were sprawled out of the soil, and the foliage looked like it would reach the sky soon. It was a very poetic drawing; Iruka couldn't see what was shocking enough in it to make Hokudo Fujiko in flesh talk to him, something he sure thought was dispensable.

"It's a drawing." He stated sardonically. "You know, something mostly done on paper sheet; with a pencil."

The woman gave him a smug look, ignoring his sarcasm, and tidied her hair absentmindedly.

"So, what else can you tell me about it?" She asked with a toss of her head and a flick of her wrist in no particular direction. She sounded like a teacher in front of a child, and even if she actually taught pre-genin, Iruka was in no way a kid she could make a fool of.

"I think that it's beautiful but that I don't have time for your riddles." He hissed, straightening up his bag on his shoulder, and taking a step to the teacher's lounge, wherein he could finally have coffee, and some peace. He was to open the door when an innocent voice went up behind him:

"My, do you care so little about your students?" She wondered aloud.

He could hear himself growl in annoyance as he walked back to her, furious at her insinuations and arrogant attitude.

"Okay, tell me. You know I'm too stupid to understand all this on my own, so just tell me so I can get it over with."

She looked pleased by his reaction. Iruka wanted to shake her from head to toe and throw her against a wall so she would pass out and shut up. He had had a hard day, a training field day, wherein the kids played with kunai and shuriken and the Hokage knew what other weapons they brought for the occasion, and Iruka had had to spend the whole day making sure no one would get harmed. So no, he wasn't exactly an embodiment of Patience.

"One of your student drew this. During my class." She explained with an ominous smile.

Sometimes Iruka wondered if the gods didn't hate him. Of all the kunoichi teachers of the academy, he simply _had_ to work with the most irritating of all, didn't he?

"Who?" He asked, exasperated, punctuating his question with a heavy sigh, just so she would have one more indication of his annoyance. She ignored all these signs.

"Katsu did." She answered nonchalantly.

He shrugged.

"Okay, I'll tell her not to do it again."

In one second, her content expression turned into a cold and furious frown.

"So, this is it ? The girl is drawing during class instead of working and learning, and all you have to tell me is that you'll ask her to stop? You are an imbecile!"

Iruka raised a hand to the level of his face, and closed it in a fist, before lowering it slowly. He really shouldn't lose his control that easily. Be it in a rare show of kindness, or simply because she thought he couldn't be much of a threat, she ignored his violent reaction.

"I'm not here to be insulted by you." He stated coolly, once he had recomposed himself.

She snorted at him. He bit his lips.

"And I am not here to see you be so indulgent with your students!" She counteracted. "If she draws during class, it means she doesn't listen to what I'm saying. It means she isn't learning."

"Well, this is good for you." He told her, walking once more to the teacher's lounge. "Take care of it. You are the one disturbed by the drawing, after all."

"I am trying to do something. But you are ruining my work, since you let her do it during your class. So of c…"

Iruka laughed nervously, too surprised by the accusation to be properly angry:

"I am not going to change my methods for you! If I think drawing can get out of her head what has been bothering her, then it is my own problem, and choice, as a teacher."

"But she _has_ to stop drawing!" replied Fujiko, exasperate. "If she only crams to pass the genin test, she won't have acquired the basics, and that will be lethal on the field."

Iruka rolled his eyes at this. As if he didn't know!

She kept going:

"Now, I don't like you, I find you irresponsible." She said slowly, as if he could have been mistaken by her feelings before. "And I know that you don't like me, but see if I care. Now, I want you to let your feelings out of the professional life and take care of this kid. The last thing I want is her dead because of a teaching failing." She made a slight rest in her speech, then had a scornful laugh. "Of course, everyone is after you because of this Uzumaki kid, saying that it's thanks to you if he has finally accepted to grow up. But I'll be frank with you – then, when am I not? I don't find this in the slightest amazing. You've failed the kid for three years before passing him. And I won't allow you to do this to Katsu. Do I make myself clear?"

Iruka was completely flabbergasted. He almost stuttered when he replied:

"I care about my students as much as you do. And I don't want them to die on the field either. Are you stupid? Who do you think you are, making assumptions, insinuating things like this?! I agree about letting our feelings out of our professional life. But I swear if you keep insulting me and acting superior every time we work together, not only won't it make me obey you, but it will make me mad, and I swear I'm not in charge of the difficult children for nothing. "

"Are you threatening me?" She asked with a bewildered face, almost smiling. He could only be joking!

He didn't answer and opened the teacher's lounge's door. He entered it with a sedate pace, faced her with what he hoped was a calm face.

"Katsu won't stop drawing." He said. And it was true. Even if they tried to stop her, she would always find a way to draw.

Fujiko glared daggers at this. She narrowed her eyes in anger :

"You'll kill her."

That was it!

Iruka slammed the door at her face.

Half an hour later, when Suzume walked into the room, she found an exhausted Iruka, his face hidden in red hands, elbows on the desk, and in front of him, the corpses of three red pens.

* * *

Iruka walked slowly in the direction of the ramen bar, his walk heavy and his shoulders low. He felt so irritated, although he was done for his daily work, that the muscles of his temple and around his scull were tense and sore. This often warned him of soon-to-come headaches. In these situations, Kakashi would usually appear out of nowhere to cheer him up in his infuriating way. Sadly, the man hadn't been around lately, which was strange since the chuunin hadn't heard of any mission being given to him.

Not that Iruka should be bothered; he had been depending too much on the jounin anyway. It was only fair the man wouldn't always come and take care of a teacher's problems.

Still, the chuunin hoped Naruto would help him relax a little. He was so furious at what Fujiko had told him that he knew if he happened to pass her in the street he would lose it. He respected the woman as a teacher since she was good at what she did, but as a person, she was execrable. She had a somehow snake-like aura of slyness that had colleagues whispering behind her back and joking about her being some hidden child of Orochimaru. Iruka found ridiculous that grown people would spread such ridiculous rumors but couldn't help sometimes but silently agreeing with what was said. Especially on this sort of days when she came and insulted him in the hope he would be pressured into doing as she wanted.

He raised the little curtain displaying the name of the bar and entered.

"Hi." He shouted out with a tired smile.

Wiping a glass, Teuchi greeted him back. The teacher took his usual seat, surprised his former student wasn't already waiting for him; Iruka himself was slightly late and the blonde never was as long as ramen was involved. He ended shrugging it off and asked for a cup of warm _strong _sake. He was served a small dish of ginger snaps while, behind the counter, the old bartender turned to the shelf on which stood rows of spirit bottles. He picked one, poured some of its liquid in a small cup and put it in the microwave.

Waiting for his drink and nibbling on a ginger snap, Iruka looked around; besides the mature man from the day before, he was the only customer. The air was chiller than last time so Ayame had lit the charcoal heater in the back of the place. The fire had started somewhat reluctantly, giving off too much smoke; now, tamed by Teuchi's daughter efforts, it burned leisurely but surely, and slowly started to spread out a mild heat, although a slight air stream competed against him.

Teuchi quietly laid the terra cotta cup of sake on the counter. He exchanged a smile with Iruka. The first sip came close to burning the teacher's throat and it was perfect.

"Iruka-sensei." called a voice stuttering with chattering teeth. "S-Sorry I'm late."

The chuunin turned to look at the freezing blond boy who had just entered the place hugging himself. He rolled his eyes and motioned him to take the seat on his left, so Naruto would be closer to the heater and further from the entrance and it's cool breeze, protected by Iruka's build. While the boy sat on the assigned stool, the brown haired man gave his sake cup a flick so it slid on the counter and stopped in front of his former student. Naruto gave it a surprised look.

"It will warm you up. Take a sip." He narrowed his eyes. "A small one. I'm watching you."

The blonde beamed at him and took it in both hands. Iruka looked closely as he swallowed some of the lukewarm alcoholic beverage and made a face.

"So, what news?" Iruka asked, taking his cup back and finishing it in one go. Naruto mumbled something about him being a show-off before grinning broadly at Ayame who had just brought him a blanket, and thanking her. While the genin wrapped himself in the blanket, Iruka nodded with a amused smile at Teuchi, the man having asked him if he should start getting their usual noodles ready.

"Well…" Naruto started uneasily once he was covered, which made Iruka think there was something fishy going on. "I didn't want to bother you with it, really, but ero senin is so annoying and he says he'd rather not take care of it since he's busy writing and all…" The blonde rolled his eyes, helping himself to a ginger snap.

Iruka gave him a half-hearted look.

"Just get straight to the point, will you?" He said, taking a sip from a new cup of sake Teuchi had just handed him. He kept the alcohol in his mouth this time, wanting to enjoy it now he was warmer. It wasn't a top quality brew, but it was good enough.

"I think Kakashi sensei has been avoiding me." Naruto blurted out.

His former teacher tried swallowing slowly so as not to choke. While coughing slightly, he motioned Naruto to explain himself. Ayame laughed at them before blushing and hiding herself behind her tray when the other customer, this mature man she admired so much, looked up at her with questioning eyes. He went back to savoring his tea with a shrug.

"It's true!" the blonde exclaimed, ignoring Iruka's stating in a strangled voice, between two coughing fits, that of course he believed Naruto. "The first time I tried talking to him, he side stepped: I wasn't even finished that he jutsu-ed away. And now, if we somehow pass each other in the street – which doesn't happen often since, as I told you, he has been _avoiding_ me – he ignores me, goes into the first store he sees and disappears."

He closed his mouth with a frustrated growl when Teuchi brought their bowls of ramen smiling soothingly, and grabbed his chopsticks to angrily break them and start eating. Iruka took his own bowl more calmly.

"Hey," Naruto mumbled uneasily after a few seconds. Iruka swallowed. "Do you think he's angry with me? You know, for not bringing Sasuke back?"

He had made a slight pause before saying the name of his former teammate. It was painful to hear. Iruka ruffled the mop of blond hair and, refraining from sighing, smiled gently at the boy.

"I'm sure he isn't. He will never tell you, but he cares for you. A lot. He is just being is usual self: weird." He chuckled, and it sounded strained to his own ears. "You shouldn't worry."

Naruto looked at him with sad eyes before smiling too. He went back to eating, not as exuberant as usual, and Iruka took a new sip of sake to try and drown the bitter taste of anguish that had just filled his mouth.

Kakashi wouldn't…?

Would he?

The wind blew outside, and rushed, cold, into the place for a brief moment. Naruto, kept warm by the blanket and protected by his former teacher's body, sighed contentedly in this satisfaction we are overcome with when we know some unpleasant thing outside cannot reach us. The other customer tightened his heavy and thick jacket in soft old leather but otherwise didn't seem overly disturbed. Ayame leaved his side and rushed to the heater, waiting for the draught to leave. Teuchi, behind the counter, barely felt it.

Iruka, out in the open, shivered.

* * *

Please, tell me if you enjoyed it (yes even you who are on alert without reviewing me:p !) I'll gladly read comments, and absolutely do not mind (read: gimme !) constructive criticism.

And Kakashi appears next chap' ! ... Iruka goes straighten things up. Hah !


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : Umino Iruka, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Jiraiya, Teuchi and Ayame not belong to me, but to Masashi Kishimoto, who wrote the manga Naruto.  
Title: Remorse

Genre: Tells a story... XD Humor ? Fluff ? Light drama ? Friendship Kakairu (as in, it's building :p)  
Characters: Iruka, Naruto, Jiraiya, Kakashi, Teuchi, Ayame, Hokudo Fujiko, a bar customer, people in general...  
Resume: During his stay in Konoha for Jiraiya's work, Naruto can't seem to get to talk to Kakashi, who shows off his abilities to sneak away and disappear. Is there something going on ?  
Status: WIP, 3/4

Follows my one shots _Suds_ and _Bar_, though you should understand _Remorse _without having read them.

Comment: I'm sorry for the delay, and am afraid the fourth chapter won't come for a long time. It's all ready in my head, what I lack is the time to _write_ it seeing as I have quite a heavy schedule. Hope you'll still enjoy this By far my longest chapter !

* * *

Remorse

Chapter 3

* * *

Iruka looked tired, Genma noticed twitching his senbon to the other corner of his mouth. The man had dark circles under his eyes, and his ponytail, ruffled and sloppy from a whole day of work, hung pitifully on his head, shaken by the wind. Though his pace was resolved the steps were slow, which was unusual for the energetic teacher who always walked quickly, never spending his precious time roaming just so he could be home fast and rest, specially when exhausted. His shoulder strap was heavy with what the jounin knew were stacks of sheets to be graded; it was actually surprising to see him carrying so many of these out so late, since he usually had said grading half done in the teacher's lounge.

So yes, he looked tired.

He also looked genuinely pissed off.

Which is why when the chuunin spotted him and headed his way, the chestnut haired man blinked and chewed nervously on his senbon. A gulf of wind came and threatened to take away his bandanna, but it was of no use since it had been tied tightly.

Once Iruka was close enough to meet the older man's gaze, he nodded slightly in greeting.

"Good evening, Genma-san." The teacher called politely, still walking towards him. The other man wasn't fooled in the slightest by the humble tone. He greeted back warily as the teacher opened his mouth again with a forced nice smile on his face. "You wouldn't happen to know where Kakashi lives, would you ?"

Genma blinked; his senbon twitched. It was fall and in spite of the early hour, the sun had already set. The huge, tall and black lampposts, lit earlier everyday, cast dirty yellow lights on the streets. Strange shadows played over Iruka's face. The man stopped in front of Genma with a sigh and his hands on his hips, but in the end he let his arm drop by his side, too tired to keep this posture.

"I'm sorry." Genma apologized, his lips thinning around the senbon while his mouth stretched into a pleasant smile so obviously fake it wasn't even trying to be hypocritical. "I'm on gate watch duty." He added to show he wasn't to be disturbed.

Iruka had no trouble getting the double-meaning. He used such tricks himself at the mission desk sometimes, when he couldn't openly threaten higher ranked shinobi whose reports were late or inappropriately filled. He narrowed his eyes briefly at the jounin, and the shift of expression made the shadows on his face even more unsettling, then shrugged and played along.

"I'm really sorry too, I didn't mean to bother you. I just thought you might have helped me." He made a pause and took a very discreet intake of breath. "I should go then."

Yet he stayed, and even found the strength to fold his arms over his chest, giving Genma a defiant look. It was the jounin's turn to sigh, and he did so very loudly, dropping the acting and clearly showing the other was putting him in a difficult and delicate situation. Not that he hoped Iruka would suddenly have a guilt trip; not when the chuunin was in this mood. The wind, coming from behind Iruka, angrily smoothed the man's ponytail flat on his head; he didn't seem overly disturbed by it, a greater bother ruling over his mind while he breathed deeply to keep his temper under check.

"You smell of alcohol, Iruka."

The chuunin snorted and looked away biting his lips, unsure whether to laugh or crumble at the absurdity of the situation.

"Yes Genma-san, I have had three small cups of sake." He conceded with a roll of his eyes, his tone on the edge of condescension and insolence. He frowned at his own voice but did nothing to redeem himself. "I am a responsible adult: I know my limits, and I can assure you I haven't reached it."

The jounin eyed him intently, senbon twitching with hesitation in his mouth. He raised his left hand to scratch his hair, slightly upsetting his bandana, and put the other one on his hip. He shifted his body weight to his right foot. Iruka still stood there, lips pursed in a white thin line, looking straight back at him. Genma almost startled when Iwashi, another ninja on gate watch duty, called him from the top of the wooden ramparts. He waved back and nodded sharply to show everything was fine and that there was nothing to worry about.

The senbon shifted again from one corner of the mouth to the other.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting along with Kakashi lately?" The jounin asked, blinking slowly.

Iruka smirked, and it wasn't a nice expression. "Well, not enough for him to give me his address, it seems."

"Then why should I do it?"

Iruka straightened and bristled, his eyes narrowing suddenly.

"Because…» He started in a slow hiss. «He needs his ass kicked."

Genma gave him a measuring look then gazed longingly behind his own shoulder at the ramparts where a slight thread of smoke informed him the other poor souls on watch duty had lit the heater, and that warm coffee had been poured into cups. He then looked back at the chuunin and away from the dark green outline of the forest's foliage he could see dancing in the cool yet gentle breeze over the gate.

"Don't take it the wrong way, sensei, but I don't think you're strong enough to do it."

Iruka blushed slightly and even chuckled at the unexpected humour, yet didn't flinch and kept resolutely staring at the jounin.

"Oh well, at least I'll have the pleasure to try." He conceded viciously.

Genma stared back. He shifted both senbon and body weight.

"Well..." He sighed. "I guess it can't hurt..."

Not him anyway. Kakashi on the other hand...

* * *

Kakashi sneezed.

Sitting on the couch with his feet on the _kotatsu_, Kakashi was quietly enjoying his tea. He had been having trouble sleeping lately - he liked to think it was due to the lack of tiring missions – and he assumed one small cup of caffeine wasn't really going to worsen the situation. Specially since it was just the way he liked it, strong and slightly bitter. The wind had picked up, outside, and it whistled furiously against interstices when its flurries hit the living-room's windows, making them shake. Kakashi didn't know whether to hate or love this sound. It sounded like a softer version of the _chidori_'s singing; it was beautiful and reminded him of bloody missions, torn bodies and warm corpses. It also made him aware of the safety of his home, the dangers of the outside howling their frustration through the wind, unable to reach him .

Lost in his thoughts, it took Kakashi some time to realize the knocking at his door wasn't caused by the same wind that rattled his windows. He blinked in surprise and slowly stood up, holding his cracked and formerly plain white mug in one hand while the other adjusted his mask back into place. The blanket he had been wrapped into fell to the ground. Once he made sure his face was properly hidden, he put his gloves on. By the time he walked to the door, the knocking was close to turning into banging. When he finally opened it, he found himself face to face with a frowning young man whose nose was highlighted by a scar. Kakashi leaned on the doorframe, openly preventing the angry man from coming in; he didn't particularly enjoy feeling trapped in his own house. The chuunin wasn't supposed to be there, anyway.

"Iruka. What a pleasant surprise. How did you find me?" The jounin asked evenly before the dark-haired ninja could even voice his annoyance.

The teacher frowned even more but managed to keep his temper under check. He hadn't expected the other man to welcome him with open arms, but was surprised and put out at how coldly his elder behaved.

"You weren't on a mission, or at the memorial stone. No guarding duty either. I saw light from your apartment's window, so obviously..."

Kakashi sighed deeply.

"You know what I mean. Who gave you my address?"

Iruka rolled his eyes.

"I have my ways." Then, seeing Kakashi looked about to send him away, he added quickly: "I'm freezing. Let me in?"

The older man seemed to hesitate, switching body weight to his other foot and slowly straightening, leaving the support of the doorframe.

"Come on, what if I get a cold?" The chuunin insisted. «Think of the poor guy who'll be asked to take over my class for me! You know the Hokage would be more than delighted enough to have _you _do it when I call in sick…"

"Are you threatening me?" Kakashi interrupted him with a flabbergasted blink.

It felt extremely ironic that he, Umino Iruka, chuunin schoolteacher, perfectly average ninja, would be asked this twice in the same day.

«I was trying to make you feel guilty, but if threatening works, that's alright for me...» He snorted, trying to hide his irritation at being reminded of his encounter with Fujiko.

Kakashi answered this with a silence that stretched through long seconds. He looked at Iruka with piercing eyes, as if trying to understand, before Iruka could voice it, what the man wanted of him at seven in the afternoon. The chuunin saw the sharingan eye twitch under the closed scared eyelid; the other one opened wide.

«You're drunk. »

The teacher's shoulders slumped.

«I had a horrible day. Very nasty. So yes, I _drank_. But I am not _drunk_.» Iruka folded his arms, right hand fingers drumming against his left biceps. «So, are you letting me in?»

For some unknown reason, Kakashi let out a soft chuckle that sounded suspiciously like relief. He quickly repressed it.

"All right." He said, almost drawling out of reluctance. "Get your 'not _drunk_' self inside before you go and bomb the academy in a fit of anger."

Iruka couldn't help but smile, though it quickly disappeared as Kakashi scratched the side of his face and took a small step aside. The chuunin patiently waited for him to walk away some more until there was room enough to get inside without having to squeeze himself though the unwelcome opening. Luckily, a gush of wind that shook nearby trees and the teacher's clothes made the older man hurry.

"Shouldn't you be enjoying your free time with Naruto?" The jounin asked while watching Iruka closely. An alarm in the chuunin's head went up at Kakashi's words and tone, notifying him they were something to look underneath, but he ignored it in order to shiver - something the gray-haired man didn't miss. It was quite a shock for the human body to enter such a warm place after having stood outside only protected from the cold blowing wind by standard chuunin outfit.

The village's ninja should soon start wearing their winter clothes, Kakashi noticed absently-mindedly while the chuunin took his shoes off. It barely ever snowed in Konoha, but the rain and the storms brought by cool winds flooded the streets with water, and the puddles sometimes froze during the night, making walking in the slippery streets a good opportunity for chakra adherence training.

Kakashi motioned the younger man to join him in the living room; the teacher's hands were red from the cold. The jounin snorted silently to himself at the other man's stubbornness and sat at the _kotatsu_. Iruka followed him and politely put his hands on the table, making his host roll his eyes.

"Just warm them." He ordered, taking the kettle on the table and pouring some tea into his mug without the slightest hint of ceremonial. He set it in front of the chuunin who mumbled a thanks out of habit and took a careful hold of it. The warmth felt like a burn against his cold numbed fingers, but he knew it would soon pass, so he didn't let go.

" 'Them'?" He asked curiously before taking a quick sip, not bothering to taste it.

"Your hands. You can put them under the table." Kakashi specified with a vague gesture towards the _kotatsu_.

Iruka's tense face softened briefly into a slight smile, before he shook his head.

"It'll only make them hurt more. The skin will prickle, teem and sting because of the shock caused by the sudden increase in temperature." He explained, on the edge of a school lecture although Kakashi already knew this all. Knowing didn't make the sight of the large dry and red bruised hands any less annoying, though. "I'd rather just hold the mug. Less painful."

The jounin didn't answer, sighed and stood up to go to the kitchen get himself another mug. He came back to see Iruka taking a cautious sip of his drink, merely frowning at the taste instead of making a face like he so obviously wanted to, and putting his mug back on the table. Kakashi noticed with amusement the man didn't seem to like overly bitter tea.

"Here, some sugar."

The older man handed the teacher two lumps of brown sugar he had also brought back from the kitchen. Iruka thanked him and used only one. Kakashi watched him silently as he stirred his tea with a modulation of chakra, both hands around the mug The jounin hadn't thought of bringing a spoon.

"You've been avoiding Naruto." Iruka said after a new sip that proved more satisfying and almost pleasant; he liked strong tea.

"No." Kakashi denied with an all too bored and controlled tone that indicated he was lying.

"I wasn't asking." The teacher replied, letting go of the mug on the table. He straightened - Kakashi recognized it as a defensive posture hidden behind apparent aggressiveness, the way a cat bristles so as to dissuade potential enemies. Iruka often did this when he had to act strong although he didn't feel like it or knew doing so could cost him a lot. The time Kakashi had recommended team seven for the chuunin exam, for example…

"I want to know why." The younger man insisted.

Kakashi raised his eyebrows.

"You 'want to'? I'm sorry, but you are in no position to demand something from me." He drawled in the same cold voice he had used at the nominations.

Iruka glared and bristled.

"Look you ass! I'm tired of people's complete hypocrisy around here." He hissed. Wide-eyed, Kakashi didn't have time to warn him this could earn him a night stay in jail for insubordination. Not that he himself wanted to threaten the chuunin, but sooner or later the man would end up irritating some unsympathetic, high-ranked ninja who wouldn't think twice about cutting him down to his size in quite harsh ways, and Iruka _had_ to be aware of it!" 'I'm sorry' this, 'I'm sorry' that, and not mean it, never say what you mean, play idiotic riddles, make people tire themselves looking 'underneath the underneath' - how brilliant - why make it simple when things can be complicated?"

The jounin frowned at him but once more, it didn't stop Iruka.

"I had a damn _shitty_ day. And I don't care if you avoid me, because I've sort of been expecting it ever since you started appearing out of nowhere with no reason… Jounin quirk I guess." Which was a lie: Iruka had grown used to the other man and fond of the distractions he provided. The bluff seemed to work, thought, and Kakashi's open eye narrowed, the other one tensing in its closed position. "… But Naruto?! How could y…?"

"Iruka-sensei, I suggest you calm down." Kakashi interrupted him dryly, his hurt pride an open wound that made him dangerous.

Although he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't technically drunk, Iruka's already short temper was even harder to keep under check with three sake cups in his bloodstream. Only the jounin's harsh voice made him reconsider throwing his mug at the other man's head.

"He's hurt." Iruka added after a few calming breaths. "Naruto, I mean…"

Kakashi folded his arms closely against his chest.

"Only him?" He sneered. "You…"

Iruka raised a hand to pinch the middle of his nose where his scar crossed his face.

"I never said I wasn't. It's obvious I am, and I wouldn't dream of trying to hide it." He breathed in. "I thought better of you, and I'm disappointed. But that's my fault for expecting more of you than you can give. I never thought, though, you'd be one to resent Naruto."

The gray-haired man suddenly relaxed, having realized he had assumed an all too obviously defensive posture, and put both hands on his thighs.

"I don't resent him." He blurted out with a furious eye. He looked about to add something but resolutely closed his mouth. The teacher recognized it as the silence his students sometimes stuck to when he questioned them about a prankster's location.

Iruka sighed heavily and stood up, patting his clothes so as to straighten up its folds.

"I already told you, I'm too tired for these games." He admitted wearily.

"Whatever your reasons are for avoiding him, he believes it's because you're furious he couldn't stop Sasuke from leaving, and was unable to bring him back. Whether it's true or you have your own twisted and socially absurd excuse for such a behavior, you should talk to him and clear things up."

The chuunin raised the mug to his mouth and finished it in one large gulp. He then bent to set it heavily on the table.

"You really are worse than a child, I'm furious I ever thought I could treat you like a reasonable adult." He hissed, wiping his lips with an angry thumb, and his hand twitched in anger as he lowered it.

He took a few steps back, forcing himself to calm down.

"Thank you for the tea Kakashi-sensei, it was delicious, and 'I'm sorry_' _for disturbing you." He stated with fake politeness, voice dripping with sarcasm as he bowed deeply.

He didn't stop in his rant, even as he retreated some more towards the entrance where he angrily slipped into his shoes.

"We're having lunch together for tomorrow's ninjaball match. You're _welcome_ to join us. And since you look tired, get some sleep you imbecile, and _take care_ before you come, so you don't scare the hell out of Naruto."

And before the jounin even had time to gather his thoughts and react, Iruka walked away with wide steps and left.

Slamming the door.

"Shit."

* * *

It took Iruka a shower, one hour and a half, four graded sheets and the unintentional murder of the three red pens that made up the totality of his personnal supply, to finally calm down enough to stop and think.

He should have known better than to drink after a confrontation with his fellow teacher, and than to ask for another cup of sake at Naruto's doubts and worries, which in turn woke Iruka's own fears. He had a short temper and he was aware of it; he should have been careful. Yet, he didn't feel as guilty as he should have. It had felt invigorating, in a way, to let go. True, it wasn't Kakashi's fault he had trouble dealing with too many problems at once, but the fact the jounin was the cause of one of these things gone wrong didn't help the teacher keep his cool around him. It showed, in its twisted way, that he cared for the older ninja, or else he wouldn't have felt so hurt, and wouldn't have showed it so plainly. Now he thought about it, he had showed, in his outburst itself, that he trusted Kakashi even when he claimed otherwise. He had started _relying_ on the man…

Iruka shook his head, straightened and stretched, raising his arms over his head, mouth opened wide in a yawn. His spine snapped, then his shoulders. He winced at the unpleasant noise, then at the weary reflection of his face in the window on his right side. The sky was pitch black and starless. It was so dark, outside, that it was hard to say whether the night was pregnant with a new moon or whether heavy and thick clouds hit its pale shine. The lampposts' lights gave the few trees they reached a ghostly appearance, and the shapes shaken by the wind looked like they were staging a grisly ballet. There was a cracking sound and Iruka watched as a small branch fell to the ground, its few leaves brushing against the window's glass. Lightly touching the cold surface on which his breath let a slight fog, he wondered if Katsu's body would look as lost, lonely and frail the day she died, her life ripped out of her the way the branch was blown away.

All in all, happy thoughts, he sighed.

There was a scratch at the door; the chuunin looked towards it with tired eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, groaned and stood up from his cross-legged posture at the coffee table – there wasn't an inch of his desk that wasn't covered in books, papers, drawings, cereal bars' wrappings and dust, and thus it was mostly used for even more stocking, instead of grading and paperwork.

"A moment, please!"He called out, rubbing his temples.

The scratching stopped. Iruka grabbed the three useless red pens to throw them in the trashcan on his way to the door. They hit the metallic empty bottom loudly, an unnerving, dry and cold sound that made him shiver, and almost had him hurrying away as he walked towards his unexpected guest.

On the doorstep, Pakkun greeted him. The dog's fur was slightly wet even though it wasn't raining. Iruka could sympathize. Already, when he tied his hair in a ponytail in the mornings, he himself had to be careful and make sure it didn't – and wouldn't, later in the day - frizz because of the air's humidity; or else, instead of the strict and serious teacher appearance he tried to give himself, he would end up looking like a damp lamb. Which amused Suzume to no end.

"Hey Pakkun." He smiled slightly. Over the few times they had talked to each other, Iruka had decided he liked the pug and his caustic comments. "Want to come in?"

The dog sighed regretfully. The chuunin's voice held promises of treats and interesting discussions he couldn't accept, sadly.

"I was told to be brief. Sorry." Pakkun replied curtly, trying to hide behind a business attitude how much he was tempted by warmth coming from the welcoming, if messy, appartment.

"All right." Iruka nodded, folding his arms. So, the pug was there as a messenger – he was a summon after all. Figures Kakashi couldn't come himself to deal with a mere chuunin.

"_He_ said he isn't apologizing..." The dog started; Iruka almost growled, and Pakkun gave him a placating look without pausing in his speech. "… but that from how pissed you were when you left, you were going to need this."

The pub grabbed in his jaws a small plastic bag Iruka hadn't given much thought, and raised it so as to draw the chuunin's attention, before setting it down at his feet. The man eyed it with a frown but, challenging, didn't bend to pick it up.

"All right, where was I…?" Pakkun added in a bored tone, ignoring the man's struggle with himself as to whether he was going to give a look at the bag's contents or not. "Hah, I remember! He also wanted me to tell you he accepts your proposition – I hope it's nothing immoral. And that he's going to get some sleep and rest so as to be on shape for tomorrow, and I _really_ don't want to know what this is all about…"

Instead of blushing at this, Iruka smiled, relief overcoming him. He unfolded his arms visibly relaxing. The pug glanced at his face, looked away in a surge of decency, and went on.

"I think that's all." Pakkun barked with irritation in a low, rugged voice. "And if I forgot something, not my problem, I'm a dog, not an elephant." He snickered.

"An elephant?" The chuunin couldn't help but ask, amused.

It was a highly surprising thing to witness, a shrugging dog, but, really, it was to be expected from one of Kakashi's summons.

"They're supposed to have good memory." A slight pause in which Iruka gave the dog an appalled look. "All right, do I get a small reward? I have to be back fast, but I guess one small little treat can't hurt…"

The chuunin rolled his eyes, hesitated, and laughed. He motioned Pakkun to wait for him – not that the pug was going anywhere – and disappeared inside of his apartment. The dog listened attently to his doings. If he wasn't mistaken, the man was in the kitchen, since he could hear the recognizable sound of a fridge being opened and then closed. The thing sounded old, purring loudly in the background. There was the rattling of plates and the banging of cupboards being nonchalantly slammed shut. Then, steps approached.

"I'm afraid I haven't cooked today, but I hope some ham will be to your taste." Iruka announced, walking back with a chipped plate.

Pakkun's nose twitched.

"Ham? What brand?" The pug asked suspiciously.

Iruka snorted.

"Sorry, your highness, cheap one. It's common ham for commoners." He added by a way of joke.

The dog let out a disappointed grunt but walked closer to the man, very careful not to put one paw inside of the apartment, which highly amused the chuunin. He crouched and set the plate down in front of Pakkun, picked the plastic bag and straightened. It contained five brand new red pens.

"It's cold." The pug complained, nudging the plate and making Iruka look away from the pens and muse at how incredibly alike master and dog were. "But there are two slices: that's nice." Pakkun added hesitatingly.

The man smirked at this poor attempt at thanking him while the dog started chewing on the ham with a grateful sigh. The surroundings smelled of wet dog, fresh air, dry leaves and impeding rain. Waiting for Pakkun to finish eating, Iruka wrapped the plastic bag around his fingers and amused himself by watching it unroll. It twirled and stretched, mesmerizingly dancing in the wind at a silent tango, and... no, it wasn't quite so languishing, something more energetic, that has you spinning around and around and around, maybe a fox trot or a waltz, a hurried, nervous and needy one, that makes you dizzy, and when you think you are going to disappear blown away by the speed, no, you come back to earth, slow down slightly so as not to bump into other dancers or a tree or anything, or you cling to your partner and they cling to you, something that's real and material and _there_...

"Having fun?" The pug asked between two mouthfuls.

Iruka glanced at him, blinked slowly and didn't answer. Pakkun shrugged again then licked the remaining bits of ham from his plate. His human companion looked steadily at his own hand as the weight of the pens prevented the bag from being stolen away by the wind.

Like an anchor.

* * *

Hope you liked it, specially since there won't be an update for a long while.


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